Mornings After
by beckendoof
Summary: A collection of Reaper-centric stories. Fourth. That pulse is proof that he's still in this world. Uzuki-centric. KokiUzu.
1. Mornings After

A/N: This is pre-game, around the time Uzuki and Kariya become partners. I always had it in my head that they never got along too well at the beginning. This here is an attempt to illustrate that idea.

Hum. May or may not be continued.

Also, the title doesn't really have a connection to anything (I am shallow; I just liked the sound of it).

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**Mornings After**_  
Kariya and Uzuki  
_

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the writing, which I am sharing here for **free**. :D

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_she thought it'd be harder to get him out of bed

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_

"Get UP," Uzuki demanded.

It was way too early in the morning for most people, but Uzuki always got up at the crack of dawn. She wanted to be the first reaper on call today, and she was halfway there. All that was left to do was to get her lump of a partner up and out the door.

He was probably regretting that he gave her the spare key to his apartment if the groggy look he gave her was any indication.

"S' five-thirty," he mumbled, looking up at her from under half-lidded eyes.

"No it's six. And I'm used to an early wake up call." She did a lot of sports back in highschool; most training days took place at a similar hour.

"Well I'm not and I have seniority." He stretched, groaned a little, and turned around, presenting her with a clear view of his boxer-covered rear. "Shop's still closed, hon. Come back 't twelve."

"Twelve?" She frowned, as her mind tabulated a few observations. He didn't use any blankets when he slept? Well, it wasn't like the air-conditioning was on.

"Yeah, tha's noon... Aroun' lunchtime..." His replies, muffled now, were getting slower and slurred.

"I know when twelve is," she huffed, crossing her arms across her chest. "It's just... Don't we have, like, a meeting or something? At ten? Some of the other reapers were talking about it and Tenho said—"

Her chattering was interrupted by a light snore.

It was very difficult to resist the impulse to kick him since he had so obligingly presented her with a perfect target, but somehow she managed. Maybe it was a good thing that she was learning patience around this guy. She recalled getting a lot of penalties for rushing a goal; coach often yelled at her ("PATIENCE, YASHIRO, PATIENCE!") but she'd found it difficult to obey since the woman wasn't a paragon of virtue herself.

Where was her head? She didn't come here at the break of dawn to reminisce!

There were pillows—throw pillows, the kind that probably belonged on the couch–strewn around the small living room. Kariya here had probably crashed the moment he got home. It looked like he'd just dressed down to the barest essentials before collapsing onto the cushions.

She picked up a few of the pillows that were near her, aimed for his head, and with each punctuation she took a shot. At this range, with zero obstacles, accuracy was a breeze.

"WAKE—UP—YOU—BUM!"

His protracted groan was like music to her ears.

_"Wh' the hell...!"_

"Shut up and get up," she said, unrepentant. "So what if it's six? You sleep too much anyway."

He turned back around and faced her with a contorted expression. Ooh, seems like she struck a nerve. He replied, voice a mild growl: "You don' know that." And suddenly, she was peeved again.

_What was that supposed to mean?_ The wrinkle at the base of her forehead went deeper. On the outset, she had never trusted him. She already suspected that he might be doing spy work for the officers; the laziness could easily be a facade. Maybe his keeping an eye on her, this "partnership", was a scam. A contingency plan. She wasn't blind to the reputation she'd built up for herself during her run through the Game.

Ruthless, some had called her. Hey, it was survival of the fittest, wasn't it? And she'd wanted to survive.

...Or maybe it was simpler. Maybe he went on more missions after they parted ways at the end of a work day. There had to be a reason why he could fill up his quota much faster than she could (and she refused to believe this was due to any form of talent).

Irritated now, she replied, "You think I care? I'm not leaving till you get up." And to emphasize this, she made herself comfortable on the couch armrest.

It didn't take long for him to be swayed. Rather than it getting tighter, however, his expression eased. He probably figured it'd just be easier to go along with her demands, the lazy ass.

"Man, you're pushy." He was sitting upright, rubbing an eye.

"Feel free to break off our partnership then."

"Like hell. I volunteered, 'member?"

Oh how could she forget.

There were plenty of cat calls on that day, plenty of gossip that emerged from it. Koki Kariya, the most notorious slacker on the force, was willingly taking on a job posted up by the brass. And a _babysitting _job, no less.

He yawned widely and stood up, squinting at the wall clock. "Can't remember the last time I was up this early," he commented. The sleep was out of his eyes in the next look he directed at her. She returned it without flinching. "I think I'll need a hot shower," he said next, like he was measuring his options.

"Ten minutes," she said in a tone that dared him to argue. "I want to get to HQ by seven."

"There's plenty of time," he replied offhandedly, manoeuvring around the low coffee table to get to what was most likely his bedroom. "So much time, in fact, that I think I'll take twenty."

"Ten," she said through gritted teeth.

He opened the door, and she had a brief look of a space of posters—CAT, a Def Marche flyer, a variety of stuff that looked downright crazy— before his lank body blocked her view. "You come and get me then." He smiled, his teeth showing, and somehow it unsettled her. "'Course, can't guarantee I'll be decent if you jus' barge in on me, but if you really want to—"

_THUD_

The pillow she'd thrown was a second too late; he'd pulled the door to cover his head. Okay, so maybe for a guy who just lay around all the time, his reflexes weren't as bad as she thought. But that was not the point.

He stuck his head through the crack between the door and the frame, and said, still with that infuriating grin: "Fine. Fifteen then."

Instead of replying, she simply glared at him. Where his bloody train of thought was zigzagging towards now, she had no idea. If he was baiting her, then the best way to counter it was to remain silent.

"It's called compromise, hon." Like he'd read her mind. "I'll be done in fifteen minutes flat, scout's honor."

Then a pause.

What, was he waiting for a reply? She looked up and saw that he was looking at her with expectation. As if she really had a say in this situation. What was up with that? Why didn't he just pull rank on her? He'd tried it only moments ago (albeit, half-heartedly, so it was something she could ignore). If he brought seniority into the picture and gave her an order to stay outside his rooms, she would obey. Grumble a little, sure, but obey. She didn't like him, but she believed in the military code.

But as the fates would have it, it seemed like the reverse applied to him. He cared nothing for the code, and she could not even begin to fathom why he seemed to be interested in her.

She rolled her eyes. "Take an extra minute and you're buying me breakfast."

"Deal." The grin turned into a smirk, and then he disappeared into his quarters. "Oh, one more thing—" And he materialized again. "The offer still stands, 'lright?"

Offer?

Again, he must have read the confusion off her frown because the mischief was back in his face. "You said if I take too long—" and he didn't get any further than that.

This time she threw three pillows at him.

All three slammed into the door to the sound of his muffled laughter.

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**END**


	2. Love the Job

**Love the Job**  
_Kitaniji and The Composer. Uzuki and Kariya_

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_the Conductor loves his job. Most of the time.

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_

" No. No no no no **NO**."

"That kinda hurts me, hon. Aren't you the least bit curious?"

"Forget it! I _refuse_ to work so closely with a guy like you! Syncing? Passing some stupid puck thing? Feeling _your pain?_ Feel your own damn pain!"

Koki Kariya turned to their superior with a look on his face that was part resignation, part grin. "There you have it, sir, straight from the horse's mouth. You'll have to find another team for your little experiment."

"Who the hell are you calling a horse?" snapped the pink-haired Reaper at his shoulder.

"It's only a saying, sweetheart."

As the two begain to argue anew, they did so in the presence of none other than Megumi Kitaniji himself. It surprised him that Yashiro had let go of her temper so soon; she was usually so disciplined in the presence of an officer. The Conductor sighed and excused himself from the scene to slip in a phone call.

The Composer answered on the first ring, his voice modulated – as it always was – to casual interest.

"What news?"

"It's pretty bad, sir." Megumi winced as Yashiro upped her volume a few decibels. "It appears that the two you designated are...vastly incompatible."

"I'm rarely wrong in my assessment of people, Megumi." The Composer wasn't laughing at him but his tone always made him feel as though he was.

"Yes, well, forgive me for contradicting you, but I'm afraid this arrangement will lead to murder."

"But everyone in the Game is already dead, my dear Conductor."

"You know what I mean."

A 'hm' breezed across the earpiece of the Conductor's phone, followed by a thoughtful pause; he waited in respectful silence for the Composer to speak. The Composer always took his time; then again, he did live on a different plane compared to the rest of them. This didn't stop Megumi from wishing that it were easier to level with his superior; they saw each other rarely enough, so it was difficult to predict why he went with the choices that he chose.

Then something at that moment decided to detonate. It was loud enough to startle him into turning around, particularly when a girlish shriek cut through the air less than a second after it.

Of course, he recognized it for one of Kariya's devices. That guy had a penchant for using his tools for reasons that bordered rule-breaking. One such rule prohibited the usage of weapons on fellow Reapers.

Yashiro looked furious and partially burned.

Another rule prohibited the use of such weapons within the HQ.

Where they all currently were. There was a small, circular burn mark on the wooden floors (carefully polished when it was heard that the Conductor would be using the room to conduct interviews).

At least this wasn't his office.

As he sighed and turned away from the mess, the Composer spoke: "Was that an explosion?"

"Yes."

"I see."

"I hope you do, sir."

The Composer laughed a whispery laugh which he took as his cue.

"We have a couple of recruits with more working experience on the field. I could have Konishi draw up a list if you like—" The Composer cut him off with a languid tut-tut.

"Megumi, don't be droll. You should know how I work by now."

Oh he did know, all too well. Didn't mean he couldn't try to put his own opinions into play. He was Conductor and he would have his thoughts heard.

Anyway it wasn't that he didn't _like_ the pair that the Composer had chosen.

Koki Kariya, while not exemplary in attendance or work ethic, was skillful in his own right. Sneaky too, in trying to keep that talent under wraps; but he couldn't hide it from Megumi. Aside from unlimited access to records and records of personal information, Megumi had the fortune of having seniority over Kariya, a fortune very few had access to or even knowledge about. Since he had been there when the kid had first come in, he was in a better position than most to judge his behaviour.

And Koki Kariya had a very interesting pattern of behaviour, and it all came to a head when his partnership with the spitfire Uzuki Yashiro began.

'Spitfire' was probably a very tame description of her brazen personality but loud or no, Yashiro was a very dedicated Reaper, and perhaps one of the most loyal ones he'd ever encountered. She was on the way to finishing up her first year, and she was already showing signs of exemplar Reaper behaviour. Her ruthlessness mirrored that of Mitsuki Konishi in her rise through the ranks.

But Yashiro lacked something that Konishi had, and freshmeat that she was, he didn't expect her to realize it for a while. It wasn't so much experience as it was attitude and beliefs. While Konishi was slightly on the mysterious side, she had a very well-contained personality. Yashiro easily trumphed her (at least in terms of outward display) in determination, but Konishi had always acted like she knew how to get where she wanted and why she wanted to get there.

This girl had drive, but where she was headed? Megumi doubted that the simplistic goal of 'top of the pecking order' would satisfy her for very long. Her ambition would make sure of that.

Then the Conductor wondered, not for the first time, what trick of fate had led to this coupling of complete opposites. It was no move of the divine; that much he knew from the reports.

What Kariya had been thinking on that day, volunteering like that, was the stuff of rumors. Some called alcohol into the picture, and there were counts of bribery and promises of extra time off from work. Within moments the Reapers' had a new love team to crow about in between the long, lazy days of rest time and Game time. The entertainment that poured forth from such rumors was some of the things that added color to his day.

But being the Conductor was a full-time job and he had to look past the fun and into the practicality.

Was it really a merit to the ranks to have such a dysfunctional team? On their own, either Reaper had potential. Putting them together – _allowing _them to stay together – seemed too much like a recipe for disaster.

A giggle from his phone brought him back to the present.

"You think too much, Megumi."

He shrugged, despite knowing that the action wouldn't be seen. "Part of the job, sir."

"That doesn't mean you have to think twenty-four seven. Be more spontaneous. Take a leaf out of Kariya's book."

This made him smile.

"What are you planning with this?"

"Oh, you know." The Composer's voice went a shade deeper as his amusement broke through. "It's interesting. A coming together of opposites. Kind of makes you want to see what'll happen if you pit them together."

"So you're appealing to the romantic in you, is that it? Opposites attract?"

"Don't put me on the same level as your men, Megumi." Despite the chiding words, the tone remained amused. "Either way, they're both interesting, don't you think?"

"Play with us all you want, Composer, but remember that I draw a line somewhere. This little experiment of yours might ruin two very good candidates for the office. I care about my men."

"You have women in your ranks too, Conductor. Sexist much?"

"You know what I mean." By this time, the Conductor's tone had gone deep with amusement too. And resignation. Sometimes, most powerful being at Shibuya or no, the Composer acted like a teenaged boy who had just discovered the freedom of adolescence and was revelling in a newfound feeling of self-authority. "...so, official order then, is it? Shall I make it known that the Composer wishes this union to be made? It might make the transition easier on Yashiro."

"Oh heavens no. Go ahead and take all of the blame, Megumi. I'll be enjoying this from the sidelines."

"As always, huh."

"Put them to work quickly, hm? Results come faster with action."

"As you wish."

Click.

Megumi adjusted his shades and put on his Head Honcho face. Part of him decided that he may as well enjoy this, even if it could go wrong in all the dangerous ways. Because, imagine, if it all went right he could have an indispensable team in the ranks. If they got better, maybe he could even bend the rules a bit and make them co-Game Master someday. The Players getting in were growing stronger all the time so it was only right to even the odds by pitting them against Reapers who played like them. Two-on-two. Had a nice ring to it.

He faced them and saw Yashiro, one arm around Kariya's neck, yanking backwards with all her strength.

"You know what? I think I'll do everyone a favour and rip all this ridiculous hair out!"

"You wouldn't dare!"

"**Try me.**"

Well. Everyone behaved like children at the beginning. It was simply his misfortune that he couldn't delegate the task of babysitter to anyone else.

_I love my job_, thought Megumi Kitaniji. _I love my job I love my job I. Love. My. Job._

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**END

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**A/N: Still pre-game. Pre-game has so much possibility.

I kinda want to write something from Uzuki and Kariya's POV about this little incident. We'll see.

Also, I love writing Conductor-Composer interaction now. The dynamics of that relationship is pretty fun, kinda mirrors the Composer-Producer relationship (I think?).

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EDITS: shyeaaaaah, okay changed some bits to make the Composer's identity vague, just in case someone hasn't played the game yet. No spoilers now, people! Glad I caught that.


	3. Their Mornings

**Their Mornings**  
_Kariya x Uzuki_

* * *

_this is one of their mornings: she comes in to make him breakfast, they talk about mundane things, and he remembers why he's always, always been smitten._

* * *

He slept in fits these days. Couldn't really understand why. As soon as he got home, he didn't even bother using the bed; he just crashed on the couch, switched on the tube, and watched till he dropped off into oblivion.

It was a monotonous existence that he was not quite sure he enjoyed, but, hey, it was routine. Kariya could deal with routine. And it was never too long till he fell asleep.

The couch was probably the reason for the fits; it was too small to hold his length. Parts of him were always dangling off the sides—legs mostly, and an arm. When he woke up, he usually found himself at the brink of falling over. He always heard the electronic sounds coming from the television first, before feeling that impending sense of vertigo.

Despite the trouble, he really couldn't bother with moving to the bedroom. It was too far.

And anyway, Uzuki always came in first thing in the morning, and waking up to the sounds of her movement was one of the things he looked forward to in this second life. If he was in his room, she wouldn't bother coming in to wake him. For one, his quarters were small and there was literally not much in there except for the bed, which occupied most of the floor space, and a small closet where he kept his clothes. For another, Uzuki was very proper in that military-esque way. She drew the line at certain things, and in a most vehement manner if he was up to the task of pushing her buttons. It was endearing, really.

Today, he woke up to the sounds of her frying something in the kitchenette. She heard him moving about in his sheets apparently, because less than a second later he heard her call: "Kariya? You up?"

She didn't know this but he had made it a rule – nay, a _commandment_ - that his first words of the day to her had to be matched with the visuals. He got to his feet, rubbed the sleep from his eyes and shuffled over to the kitchenette, where she was at the stove. Her back was to him, but she glanced over her shoulder, probably about to call to him again.

She stopped when she saw him, and he slouched against the wall.

"Mornin'." He yawned.

"Morning, Sleepyhead," she replied. Her face lit up with one of her sudden, bright grins. "Sleep well?"

"Not really." Not in the mood to elaborate, he busied himself with studying her profile. So today was layers day, huh? She was wearing about three blouses (that he could tell of) in various shades of red. "Are y' wearing that shirt I got you?" he asked, noticing something familiar about the othermost layer.

"The one from last week? Yeah." She turned around fully to give him a look.

Which made him smile a little. Aside from the layers, Uzuki was in a denim skirt, a short one that showed off her legs.

Mmmmyes, the visuals.

An impulse to be near her had him walking over to the stove. She was back to cooking when he reached her side, and despite having deduced what was in the pan from the aromas wafting his way, he asked, "What're you makin'?" Because aside from proximity, he just wanted to hear her voice.

"An omlette," was her cheerful reply, and then she went on about how she discovered a receipe at the back of a can of tomatoes and how delicious it turned out to be when she had tried it at home.

Kariya had always found it easy to read people, so easy that it became second nature to pay close attention to things like speech patterns and nuances. But when it came to Uzuki, he switched off that calculating part of his brain and simply listened. Something about doing that just felt _right _to him.

"Do we really have to go to work today?" Nowadays he asked this question just to see that little wrinkle on her nose when she frowned. Today, though, there was a different reaction.

She slid her arms around his waist and looked up at him through those baby blues. "Kariya?"

She was never going to find out how that took his breath away. Never. And yet he had a sneaking suspicion that she knew exactly what it did. "Yes?"

"Do you know _why_ we go to work every day?"

He thought a moment and replied, "Because life is unfair? You know what they say: no rest for the wicked."

"Silly." She pulled close to him in a way that he liked _very much_, at least until she continued: "We work because it's boring if we don't! Work is fulfilling! Work shapes us up! If work didn't exist, _you'd_ be a total slob. "

There it was, the work-obsessed creature rising from within his partner's petite form, raising its ugly head and oggling its crazy eyes at him. He had a quip about it ready at the tip of his tongue, but he froze in the act of talking when the warmth around his middle disappeared.

"Hey..! Why're you stopping?" he whined when she returned to the stove with a most business-like air.

"Didn't you hear the last part, Koki? You show hints of _becoming_ a slob and it's bye bye Uzuki."

"Bye bye Uzuki, huh?" Now was probably not the best time to resume the cuddling. He settled for leaning back against the counter instead. "Y'know, in a way, that's kinda true," he mused. "If I stopped working, I'd run out of life points, and then I really wouldn't get to see you anymore."

He was just voicing out a casual thought, something he did often around her, so he never expected any kind of reaction.

She drew in a sharp breath and glanced at him. "Don't even _joke_ about something like that...!"

Here was another thing that made him smile today. This case was unintentional but he knew there was a reason why he liked baiting her; much of it was often very revealing.

"It's not a joke, it's fact—" he leaned in and kissed her temple "—so you can bet your ass I'm never gonna stop working."

Her lips compressed and for a minute he wondered if he should brace himself. But the cloudy expression cleared as quickly as it had come. "I don't know if I should hit you right now or not," she said finally, irritated and ever-so-slightly red. "Go take a shower already. I'll fix you some bacon to go with this."

"Bacon? You're the best, sweetheart."

"Of course I am. And I'm the best you'll ever get, so stop dawdling and get clean."

"Aye, aye, Cap'n."

"And Kariya?" He was at the doorway already, but he paused and turned around just in time to see her heave a sigh. "If you finish early...I _guess_ it's okay if we come to work a little late."

The smile on his face widened.

.

_Ah._

_I'm smitten_.

.

His nights may be terrible, but at least his days made up for them.

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**end

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**

A/N: For once, I've written them a happy, sappy couple. (or something)

Hmmm~ I think my KokiUzu muse is happy~


	4. Pulse

**Pulse**

_Uzuki-centric, KokiUzu_

* * *

_that pulse is proof that he's still in this world_

* * *

.

Uzuki comes to first, her head throbbing like a hammer pounding a nail into wood. All she remembers is a battle, those damn kids, and her partner and—

Her partner. He's next to her, not moving. She immediately turns to him, ignoring the domino of pain that echoes in various places as she moves. She nudges his arm. Says his name.

No answer.

Is he even breathing?

She drags herself closer to him and tries to see if his chest is rising and falling, but it's difficult to tell because of that stupidly bulky vest that she bought him that one time, which he insists on wearing _everywhere_ even though she has told him time and again that it's lame to keep wearing the same thing, that you gotta switch it up if you want to keep people interested—

Stop.

Stop and breathe and relax.

He is not gone, he's just out like a light. You know how he is, taking every chance he can get to catch some Zs.

She presses the tips of her fingers against his neck and waits. Waits. Waits...

And then gradually it comes, her proof, the faint beating of life.

That they, as Reapers, had pulses was a topic they had once discussed in length not so long ago. It was one of those conversations that seemed to come out of nothing, that lasted for much longer than either of them expected, and that had ended on a philosophical note, as Kariya was in that sort of mood that time.

_"That proves it,"_ he had said. _"We're not really dead."_

The rest of his theory was pretty crazy and she'd only listened with half an ear, but that opening line stuck with her. "Not really dead". Later on he called their lives as Reapers a "second chance" like it was some kind of grand opportunity that was 'not quite' like resuming their lives in the RG but a pretty swell deal on its own.

She doesn't really care about those kinds of things. She doesn't dwell on them like she knows he does. She likes him but he sometimes drives her crazy, talking about life and the afterlife. It gets on her nerves because she doesn't see how dwelling on those things helps with the present. Analyzing doesn't get the job done, _doing_ does.

When his pulse throbs stronger and stronger against her fingers, she doesn't think about his words about second chances and another life and not really being dead. She just feels a swell of relief because her partner is still in the same world that she is in.

And really, that's all that ever matters.

.

* * *

**end**

* * *

A/N: written for the twewy kink meme on LJ. Prompt was "pulse".


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